


balls

by bail



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-10
Updated: 2011-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-20 07:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bail/pseuds/bail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He throws the ball up again, prepared to catch it when a hand reaches in and catches it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	balls

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of Torchwood. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  **A/N:** The story can also be read at my [fic journal](http://bail.livejournal.com/3835.html) over at livejournal.

It is Christmas and the hub is eerily empty. Jack sits in his chair, legs on his desk and leaning comfortable back in his seat, absentmindedly throwing a ball up in the air and catching it again with one hand. He has given the team a day off, it is Christmas after all, and there had been no rift activity for nearly two whole weeks. He is bored, a bit surprised and upset that none of his team members had invited him home. Not that he is a big fan of Christmas, but more because he loathes being alone. He throws the ball up again, prepared to catch it when a hand reaches in and catches it. "Playing with your balls, sir?" asks a voice, the words being said with a certain drawl to it. He leans his head back and smirks, staring straight at the face of Ianto Jones. "Sorry, ball," says Ianto again, correcting himself, one eyebrow raised in amusement. Jack laughs, sits up, and turns in the chair until he is looking directly at the other male. "I’d rather play with yours," he says in a seductive voice and leaves no time for Ianto to answer before he pulls the Welshman down on his lap. "Will you or shall I get them out?" he whispers, a mischievous smile gracing his lips, lightening up his face. "All yours, sir," says Ianto in the same low tone, "All yours."

 _fin._


End file.
